Disclaimer: Don’t Own ETCAuthor’s Note: Dunno where this came from. Hope u like.

Back against the wall, knees pulled up to his chest, arms wrapped round himself. Timothy McGee stares at the wall ahead, motionless. A cold nose rubs against his hand, arm, face. ‘Jethro’ his mind slowly supplies. If he concentrates hard enough, he can hear his dog whimpering. Distressed by his owner’s state. You can’t catch me.

He vaguely hears a clink. Jethro must have nudged his keys. He feels the canine rest his head on his arm. His keys are on the floor; where Tim dropped them. After he had driven home on auto-pilot. Before he slide down the wall. I’m waiting.

How long had he sat here? ‘Hours’ his mind supplied, again. Long enough that the glow was from street lamps. No longer the mocking sun-shine. Blistering heat made the nauseating smell that much worse. Long enough that all was silent. No kids playing, shouting, laughing. Kids happy, smiling, like they should be. No blank gazes, from lifeless eyes. Long enough that his phone gives a beep. His inbox is full. Missed messages. Missed calls. Missed texts. Long enough, that the insistent knocking on his door isn’t loud enough to wake anyone in his building. Not yet, anyway. You’re not good enough.

The trail was cyber. Links, video, pictures. He was the one that let them down. Let her down. Flashes. Blonde, Blood, Bile. So much innocence, gone. Ripped to pieces. Click. Come on Timothy. I’m waiting.

It had been a game. You can’t catch me. I’ll give you a week. You can’t catch me. Repeated over and over and over. On every video. Every Picture. One everyday. Kidnapped, tortured, slaughtered.

Links to photos. Links to videos. Links to bodies. All taunting. You can’t catch me. Door opened, closed. Growling stopped. Links, computers. ‘You’re good at computers, aren’t you Timothy?’ Not good enough.